ALI
Our friends in the East can talk to me. Attacks against Americans will stop for now. I will not say this again.
Ali presses a button on the table next to him and a doorbell sounds. A YOUNG SERVANT enters the room obediently and looks to Ali.
ALI
Chai.
The young servant turns and leaves just as quickly as he came. The rest of the men have remained silent.
ALI
The Sunnis killed fifty of our brothers and sisters. Until those who are responsible are brought before me so I can take their heads one by one we will not waste time with the Americans.
The young servant comes back in the room with a steaming pot of tea and a glass, which he sets on the table next to Ali.
Ali stirs his tea with a small spoon and takes a sip.
ALI
The Sunni have no respect for Allah, peace be upon him. They want another Saddam in Baghdad. You will find these men. And you will bring them to me.
Nods and approval from the assembled men. The young dissenter, however, does not appear convinced.
EXT. JSS ENTRY CONTROL POINT – AFTERNOON
Four up-armored HMMWVs negotiate a series of jersey barriers on the road leading to the entrance. An Iraqi soldier, AK-47 slung on his back, raises the gate and waves the vehicles through.
INT. HMMWV – AFTERNOON
Four soldiers and a gunner are tightly packed into the truck. Body armor, helmets, sunglasses, gloves, weapons ammunition – you can’t tell who is who.
MAJ THOMAS (INTERCOM)
They’re just waving us through?
LT (INTERCOM)
They see HMMWVs come through here at least twice a day, maybe more.
MAJ THOMAS (INTERCOM)
All the more reason to check our IDs.
LT (INTERCOM)
A few months back they tried to check ColonelJohnson’sID. He gave them so much shit they haven’t done it since.
EXT. JSS ENTRY CONTROL POINT – AFTERNOON
The HMMWVs navigate a tight turn and drive past some Iraqi soldiers marching in formation, the tires kicking up a thin dust that hangs in the air.
INT. HMMWV – AFTERNOON
MAJ THOMAS
(INTERCOM)
FiguresJohnsonwas involved.
LT
(INTERCOM)
We do the same thing. Iraqi Generals get pissed if you try to check their IDs. It’s a status thing.
MAJ THOMAS
(INTERCOM)
It’s a security thing, too.
EXT. JSS – AFTERNOON
Inside the compound, the vehicles stop alongside a single story building. MSG ALDRICH–white, shaven head and trimmed mustache, looks like he means business–and SFC SMITH–black, sunglasses–stand outside the building waiting.
MAJ Thomas steps out of the HMMWV and surveys his surroundings. Concrete and concertina wire and sand dominate.
Towering over the concrete walls are the columns and the empty cranes of the Grand Mosque. It’s close, right next door. He lingers on it before realizing the two are in front of him, saluting. He returns the salutes.
MSG ALDRICH
Sir, welcome to the JSS.
MAJ THOMAS
Nice to finally meet you. Interesting view you have here, I didn’t realize how huge that thing is.
SOLDIERS unload MAJ Thomas’ bags from the back of the HMMWV, SFC Smith goes to grab one of them.
MSG ALDRICH
Yea it’s a monster. C’mon, let’s get you inside.
INT. JAMAL AND A’ISHAH’S DINING ROOM – EVENING
Uthman and A’ishah sit next to each other at the table, catching up.
A’ISHAH
How is Rahman?
UTHMAN
Getting bigger every day. He loves football. He watches every Asia Cup match. He wants to play for Iraq one day.
A’ISHAH
It’s been five years since Ifaf passed. You should find another wife.
UTHMAN
My mother enjoys taking care of him. I can’t settle down right now.
Jamal walks into the room, surprising them. He’s in uniform, his beret awkwardly perched on his head.
JAMAL
Uthman. I didn’t…A’ishah didn’t tell me you were here.
Jamal pecks his wife on the cheek and reaches for Uthman’s hand.
UTHMAN
Don’t blame A’ishah, I’m in Baghdad unexpectedly and thought I’d drop by and surprise you. I can’t stay long.
JAMAL
Please, stay and eat with us. I can’t stay long either, I must get back to work tonight.
A’ISHAH
Sit down dear, let me get you something to eat.
INT. JSS – EVENING
MSG Aldrich leads MAJ Thomas down a set of steps and into the JSS with SFC Smith in tow.
MSG ALDRICH
There are 12 of us living and working here. We train the Iraqis on staff procedures here and go out on patrols with them.
They enter a spacious room dominated by a large conference room table. Huge maps adorn one wall along with what appear to be status reports written Arabic.
Telephones and radio systems line another wall, with an Iraqi soldier fiddling with one of the dials. A television plays a soccer match.
Several Iraqis mill about, moving between the radios and the map. COL NABI sits at the head of the table, thin, well groomed and looks to be in charge.
American soldiers sit in a cubicle-like enclosure at the other end of the room–this is their workspace, containing several desks and multiple computers, phones and radios.
MSG ALDRICH
This is Colonel Nabi, the operations officer.
MAJ THOMAS
(in halting ARABIC)
As salamu alaikum. Esmee muqadam Thomas, t’sharaffna.
COL NABI
Wa alaikum as salam.
COL Nabi then begins to speak more quickly in ARABIC until MAJ Thomas stops him.
MAJ THOMAS
Wait, you’re talking much too fast and my Arabic is not good.
COL Nabi understands and looks around for a linguist.
COL NABI
Mutarjem!
MAJ THOMAS
Is there an interpreter here?
MSG ALDRICH
Petry! Where is Abu?
SPC PETRY’s head peeks out from behind a computer on the US side of the room.
SPC PETRY
He went to eat, MSG.
MAJ Thomas places his hand on his chest and addresses COL Nabi.
MAJ THOMAS
My apologies, we can continue later.
COL Nabi understands and MSG Aldrich leads MAJ Thomas over to the cubicle housing the US soldiers.
MSG ALDRICH
Sir, I’d like to introduce you to SSG Smith.
A short, stocky white man steps forward and shakes MAJ Thomas’ hand.
MAJ THOMAS
Sergeant Smith…
Turning around to look at the nametape of SFC Smith, who steps forward to stand next to SSG Smith.
SFC SMITH
There are two of us.
SSG SMITH
No relation.
MSG ALDRICH
Petry went out to grab Abu, one of our terps. This is SSG Cantu.
A broad Hispanic man steps forward to greet MAJ Thomas.
SSG CANTU
The Iraqis here think I’m from Fallujah.
MAJ THOMAS
(Smiling)
Ok. I’ll try to keep that going.
MSG ALDRICH
And this is SGT Musik.
A spindly white man with a broad smile on his face moves forward.
MAJ THOMAS
Musik!
The two give each other a man-hug, genuinely happy to see each other.
SGT MUSIK
How have you been sir?
MAJ THOMAS
Great! I didn’t know you were out here.
SGT MUSIK
Yea I pissed somebody off apparently.
MSG ALDRICH
How do you two know each other?
MAJ THOMAS
I used to be his commander.
SSG CANTU
I’m sorry to hear that.
SFC SMITH
Has he always been an asshole?
The guys are all comfortable ribbing each other.
MAJ THOMAS
He is a computer whiz, just a little…eccentric.
SPC PETRY
(to SSG Cantu)
See he’s always been a freak.
SGT MUSIK
This from a guy who gets out his happy sock five times a day.
SSG SMITH
Sir, what do you mean by eccentric?
MSG ALDRICH
There’s is a story there.
Smiling, MAJ Thomas decides to launch into the story.
MAJ THOMAS
So there we were…
SGT MUSIK
Shit. Sir, c’mon.
SSG CANTU
Let the man tell the story.
MAJ THOMAS
NTC. January rotation. Cold as shit. I’m up early listening to an update, nobody else is awake. And I see Musik stumble out of his track.
SFC SMITH
Naked?
SSG SMITH
Drunk?
MAJ THOMAS
He walks 20 feet away from the track and just stands there with his back to me.
MAJ Thomas demonstrates, turning his back to the group. Legs slightly bent, head down, hands in his crotch.
MAJ THOMAS
So I think, Musik’s taking a piss, and forget about it. Five minutes later, I look again and he’s still there, in the same position.
SPC PETRY
He had his happy sock out.
SGT MUSIK
Fuck you Petry.
MAJ THOMAS
That’s what I thought, but I watch him and he’s not moving, and he’s not taking a piss, so I have no idea what’s going on.
MSG ALDRICH
What was he doing?
MAJ THOMAS
I saw him later that morning and asked. He said…
SGT MUSIK
I was tryin’ to take a piss but I couldn’t find my dick.
The room erupts with laughter. Iraqis turn and stare.
SGT MUSIK
It was so cold out that it just shriveled up. I had so many layers on I couldn’t get through them all.
SPC PETRY
So what’d you do?
SGT MUSIK
I said fuck it, I’ll try again later. I went back inside to warm up.
More laughter. MSG Aldrich notices an elderly man coming toward the group, he is very thin with wispy white hair.
MSG ALDRICH
Abu! Come meet MAJ Thomas.
ABU
That’s why I came down, sir, BG BAHAA would like to see you.
MAJ THOMAS
OK. Lead the way.
MSG ALDRICH
We’ll put your bags on your bunk, sir.
SSG SMITH
(in the background, to SGT Musik)
Have you tried those pump things? They do make you bigger.
MAJ Thomas follows Abu out of the room and up the stairs.
INT. DIRTY GARAGE – EVENING
HASSAN walks over to a workbench littered with wood and metal and wire. Condoned off from the chaos are several large metal cylinders: finished EFPs. Wires snake from the bottom, copper glints from the top.
HASSAN runs his hand over one of them, admiring.
The TECHNICIAN responsible for these devices, a squat balding man with wire rimmed glasses perched on his forehead, looks for a sign of approval.
HASSAN
Beautiful. Bigger than the others.
TECHNICIAN
The spool holds 500 meters of wire.
HASSAN
Can we trigger them without wire?
TECHNICIAN
I do not recommend it. The Americans have jamming devices. I cannot guarantee the signal will get through.
HASSAN
Wire is risky. My men will be exposed.
HASSAN pulls an envelope from his pocket and places it on the workbench.
HASSAN
Wait here. I will send someone.
INT. JAMAL AND A’ISHAH’S DINING ROOM – EVENING
Bare, greasy fingers grab flakes of white fish from the center of the table. Jamal, A’ishah and Uthman eat in tense silence, eyes darting back and forth among them between bites.
A’ISHAH
Did you go to the gas station today?
Uthman looks sharply his sister, but she directs the question to Jamal.
JAMAL
It was sickening.
UTHMAN
They were Shia, yes? The ones who died.
A’ISHAH
I heard that the Americans planted the bomb, that Bush is causing conflict among us so he can send more troops and steal our oil.
JAMAL
They were women and children.
UTHMAN
That never used to bother you.
A’ISHAH
As long as the Americans are here we will never have peace.
JAMAL
We will find whoever did this.
UTHMAN
You haven’t found the Shia who murdered my father?
A’ISHAH
And mother…
Jamal has lost his appetite and wipes his mouth and hands with a napkin.
JAMAL
Who in Iraq doesn’t have blood on their hands? I’m trying to clean mine.
Jamal grabs his beret and his AK-47 and steps out.
A’ISHAH
And if he could see you now, father would be so proud of you.
She kisses him on the forehead and begins to clear the dishes.
INT. MAYA’S BEDROOM – EVENING
Maya’s Mother cleans her daughter’s room, picking up scattered toys, making up the bed. A cat sits near the window on the same chair Maya sat in this morning, her eyes following Maya’s Mother as she moves around the room.
Ali comes to the door, pain washing over him.
ALI
Would you like some tea?
MAYA’S MOTHER
I have to finish cleaning.
ALI
When did Layla come back?
MAYA’S MOTHER
She was here when I came home. Isn’t she cute? Sitting on MAYA’s chair waiting for her to come home.
ALI
Waiting for Maya…to come home?
MAYA’S MOTHER
They did not find her. She wandered off again, and she’s scared.
ALI
Darling…
MAYA’S MOTHER
She’s scared and she wants to come home.
Maya’s Mother collapses unto the bed holding one of Maya’s dolls. Ali holds her.
INT. JSS HALLWAY – EVENING
MAJ Thomas follows Abu down a hallway towards an IRAQI SOLDIER, AK-47 slung on his shoulder.
ABU TIME
It is very nice to meet you sir.
He stops and holds out a frail hand. MAJ Thomas takes it gently, not wanting to break any bones.
MAJ THOMAS
Thank you. Is Abu short for something?
ABU TIME
Abu Time…Father of Time. A little joke about my age. They think it is funny but I don’t see it.
(A beat)
General Bahaa is waiting. I’ll take you in.
MAJ THOMAS
Hold on, this is the first time we’ve worked together, I’d like to go over some ground rules first.
ABU TIME
No need. BG Bahaa speaks perfect English. He flew MiGs for Saddam. If anyone else comes in, then you will need me.
Abu Time nods to the Iraqi Soldier standing in front of the the door, who opens it up and lets them in.
INT. BAHAA’S OFFICE – EVENING
BRIGADIER GENERAL BAHAA, 50, slightest touch of a pot belly on his otherwise solid frame, sits on a couch in his office smoking a hooka pipe. He rises, smiles broadly and extends his arms as MAJ Thomas walks in.
BG BAHAA
Welcome! Please come in, have a seat.
With a flourish he points MAJ Thomas to the seat right next to where he was sitting on the couch. Abu takes a seat a respectable distance away on another couch.
BG BAHAA
(To the soldier at the door)
Chai!
BG Bahaa sits back down and grabs the hooka pipe again without thinking. His pacifier, he’s rarely without it in his office.
BG BAHAA
So very nice to meet you Major…
MAJ THOMAS
Thomas. Mark Thomas.
BG BAHAA
Where are you from?
MAJ THOMAS
Minnesota, small town called St. Cloud.
BG BAHAA
It is cold there?
MAJ THOMAS
In the winter, the snow can be as tall as a man.
BG BAHAA
I have never seen snow, except on television. All my life has been in Iraq. The desert. The heat. I would like one day to go where it is not so hot.
MAJ THOMAS
When this is over, I’ll take you to our family’s cabin up on the lake.
BG BAHAA
I pray that day will come.
A man in civilian clothes comes in. He’s young, 18 maybe, carrying a silver tray with three glasses of chai tea. He expertly places one in front of each man.
MAJ THOMAS
COL Roberts asked me to…
BG BAHAA
We spoke this afternoon. He is concerned about what happened at the gas station this morning.
MAJ THOMAS
We can’t pinpoint a motive.
His eyes twinkling, BG Bahaa inches closer to MAJ Thomas on the couch. Initially wary of his charm offensive, MAJ Thomas is warming up to him.
BG BAHAA
Let me connect the dots.
EXT. IED ALLEY – NIGHT
A FAT MAN pulls aside a heavy tarp to reveal three EFPs in the trunk of a decrepit sedan. He inspects the wires running from one of them and carefully lifts it out of the trunk.
The car is tucked into a dimly lit alleyway just off a wider road that looks to be a main traffic artery, deserted at the moment.
A thinner man with about five teeth wields a pickax on a spot of ground where the street meets the alleyway, making a narrow trench.
The Technician kneels next to what appears to be a narrow slab of concrete, three feet long, with large diameter holes bored in one side.
TECHNICIAN
Bring it here.
The Fat Man carries the EFP to the Technician and bends down.
TECHNICIAN
(Motioning to one of the holes in the slab)
Put it there.
The Fat Man moves the EFP forward, wires first.
TECHNICIAN
Turn it around, you idiot! Wires face the other way.
A blank look–the Fat Man is all brawn, no brains. He flips the EFP around. It fits snugly in the hole. Curious, he runs a hand along the slab.
FAT MAN
This is not concrete.
The Technician connects the wires protruding from the EFP to a large spool on the ground next to him.
TECHNICIAN
This is strong enough to hold the device and light enough to allow the projectile through, and the infidels will never see it.
Grunting, the Fat Man turns back to the car to grab another EFP.
INT. ALI’S DINING ROOM – NIGHT
Layla slinks between the legs of dining room chairs and rubs her back along Maya’s Mother’s shins, who works attentively at the table.
A photo album is open to her left, various pictures strewn about the table.
Her hand pulls a pen from right to left across a plain white sheet of paper, interrupted only by the staccato dots she places above and below her scrawling Arabic script.
INT. ALI’S BEDROOM – NIGHT
Lying face up, alone on his half of the bed, Ali is not sleeping.
On the nightstand his cell phone begins to play an Arabic tune. He reaches over and puts it to his ear.
ALI
Yes.
MAN #2
(on the phone)
We’ve found them.
ALI
Are you sure?
MAN #2
(on the phone)
One just confessed, and gave us the name of another.
ALI
I’ll be right there.
Invigorated, Ali brushes aside the covers and gets out of bed.
INT. BG BAHAA’S OFFICE – NIGHT
BG Bahaa puffs on his hooka pipe and downs the last of yet another glass of chai tea.
MAJ Thomas scribbles on a green notebook perched on his knee. Abu has fallen asleep, head back, mouth open.
MAJ THOMAS
I want to go back to the owner of the gas station. You said he was Jaysh al Mahdi, he works for Sadr.
BG BAHAA
He and his fighters have moved into a Sunni area, right here.
He points to a map laid out on the sofa between them.
BG BAHAA
This area was mixed when Saddam was in power. After Baghdad fell, the Sunnis drove all the Shia out, and now they have returned. They intimidate or kill Sunnis, and move Shia into their houses after they leave.
MAJ THOMAS
So the bomb this morning was an assassination attempt.
BG BAHAA
Or intimidation.
MAJ THOMAS
Part of me thinks we should just let them fight it out and pick up the pieces later.
BG BAHAA
Part of me agrees.
Glancing out the window, MAJ Thomas remembers what MSG Aldrich told him earlier.
MAJ THOMAS
Sir, what were they building out there?
BG Bahaa takes a long pull on the hooka, letting the smoke waft from his nose before answering.
BG BAHAA
That was to be the Grand Mosque, the largest in the world, a tribute to Islam. Saddam glorified Islam when it suited him. And discarded it when it didn’t.
MAJ THOMAS
I didn’t know…
BG BAHAA
Islam is not a lamp that you dust off and bring out of the closet when you need light. It must burn brightly inside you every day.
Finally setting down his hooka, BG Bahaa stands up.
BG BAHAA
We’ll go to the gas station tomorrow morning.
MAJ THOMAS
The job fair is tomorrow morning.
BG BAHAA
This is important.
MAJ THOMAS
So is the job fair. COL Roberts has been planning it for weeks.
BG BAHAA
Because it’s his idea. That’s not something an Army should be doing.
MAJ THOMAS
I’ll have to call him and explain the situation. Or would you rather do that?
BG BAHAA
I did tell him I would support the job fair. We can go to the gas station afterwards.
EXT. IED ALLEY – CONTINUOUS
The Toothless Man adjusts the pseudo-concrete slab containing the EFPs, taking his cue from the Technician who now stands in the middle of the deserted street.
TECHNICIAN
Up a little more.
The Toothless Man tilts the device up a little and sweeps dirt under the EFP cylinders to stabilize the angle. Fat Man smokes a cigarette and watches.
TECHNICIAN
Perfect. Right there. Now cover it up completely so it is hidden.
The Technician walks back into the alley, grabs the spool of wire and motions for the Fat Man to follow him.
TECHNICIAN
Come. I will show you how to trigger this at the right moment. You must plan your escape. The Americans will come after you.
INT. BASEMENT – NIGHT
For a long moment ALI considers the man in front of him. Mustache Man, beaten and bloody, is hanging by his wrists, a rope running through a hook in the ceiling and affixed to the wall. He swings gently back and forth, feet dangling inches above the ground.
THREE MEN, two with guns and one with bloody knuckles, watch Ali, waiting for their cue.
ALI
He told you who triggered the bomb?
BLOODY KNUCKLES
A man named Uthman. They planned to meet at a cafe tomorrow.
ALI
What else does he know.
BLOODY KNUCKLES
Nothing. He is nobody, a mechanic.
ALI
This nobody killed our brothers and sisters. And my daughter. Cut him down.
One of the GUNMEN grabs a machete leaning on the wall and cuts the rope, spilling Mustache Man to the floor.
ALI
Get him to his knees.
Both gunmen move forward and sit Mustache Man up on his knees.
Ali takes the machete from the Gunman.
ALI
Hold him.
INT. MAJ THOMAS’ ROOM – MORNING
A computer on on the bare plywood shelf next to the bed comes alive. The screen displays "Incoming Call" along with a funky RINGTONE.
MAJ Thomas stirs and rolls over, flicking a hand to the keyboard and accepting the call.
A grainy image of Rebecca fills the screen.
REBECCA
Good morning! How are you?
MAJ THOMAS
Asleep.
REBECCA
Where are you? The room looks different.
MAJ THOMAS
I moved out to the JSS yesterday. Chris Norrie got hurt. I’m taking his place.
Rebecca lets out a small gasp.
MAJ THOMAS
Chris will be fine.
REBECCA
I’m worried about you. That’s a dangerous place.
MAJ THOMAS
I will come back in one piece. I have someone amazing to come home to.
REBECCA
Yes, as a matter of fact you do.
(A beat)
I have something to tell you.
EXT. JSS – MORNING
A motorcade of HMMWVs are lined up outside the building. The first half dozen are Iraqi, clearly recognizable by the Iraqi flags painted on the passenger doors. The last four, unmarked, are American.
The US and IRAQI SOLDIERS mingle, checking crew served weapons, doing vehicle maintenance. Their uniforms are not the only distinctions between the two groups, the US soldiers all wear body armor, eye protection, gloves, and knee pads. The Iraqis wear just their uniforms and whatever shoes or boots they happen to have.
The columns of the Grand Mosque loom high above the soldiers, watching down on them as they prepare for the patrol.
MAJ Thomas finds MSG Aldrich, pointing out some things to an IRAQI SOLDIER under the hood of a HMMWV.
MAJ THOMAS
We almost ready to go?
MSG ALDRICH
We’re ready. They need a few minutes. Iraqis are never on time.
Spying someone out of the corner of his eye, MSG Aldrich calls out.
MSG ALDRICH
Jamal!
(to MAJ THOMAS)
He’s the head of General Bahaa’s security detachment. Great guy, speaks perfect English.
Jamal strides over to the pair. He yells angrily at the Iraqi Soldier in Arabic, who promptly closes the hood of the HMMWV.
JAMAL
General Bahaa will be here in 5 minutes, we must be ready.
MSG ALDRICH
Jamal, meet MAJ Thomas.
JAMAL
General Bahaa mentioned you would be with us today.
MAJ THOMAS
You speak English very well, where did you learn?
JAMAL
I taught myself. American movies.
MSG ALDRICH
Jamal, we won’t screw up your radios this time, we’ll be far enough back, ok?
JAMAL
Thank you. Please, I have to get everyone ready.
He yells at a couple of IRAQI SOLDIERS who are smoking and joking, and they stub out their cigarettes and jump into a vehicle.
MAJ Thomas notices a US soldier filling an Iraqi HMMWV with fuel from a 5-gallon can.
MAJ THOMAS
Why are we fueling their trucks?
MSG ALDRICH
COL Roberts’ orders. If there is a threat of mission failure, we give them fuel. But it really means give them fuel every couple weeks.
MAJ THOMAS
How in the hell can they be out of fuel? We’re in Iraq for Christ’s sake.
MSG ALDRICH
They sell it. Fuel comes in, next day the trucks are empty. Nobody knows what happened to it.
MAJ THOMAS
Have you talked to BG Bahaa?
MSG ALDRICH
He promises to fix it but never does. I’m sure he gets a cut, same way he takes a cut of their pay.
MAJ THOMAS
He seemed like he was on the level.
MSG ALDRICH
He is on the level. This is Iraq. It would be unusual if he wasn’t a little corrupt.
A few STRAPHANGERS scurrying behind him, BG Bahaa exits the front door of the building and confidently strides toward the lead Iraqi HMMWV.
MAJ THOMAS
Speak of the devil.
Twirling his finger in a circle above his head, MSG Aldrich signals to the US troops that it’s time to move.
MSG ALDRICH
Let’s go!
EXT. HAIFA STREET COFFEE SHOP – MORNING
Uthman lounges in a chair on the patio, looking out at a booming Haifa Street. Construction is everywhere, painting walls, installing windows. People flood the shops and sidewalks, navigating the construction.
Among them is a MAN WEARING SUNGLASSES. Pretending to browse in a shop selling pirated DVDs, he’s really watching Uthman.
He pulls out a cell phone and dials a number.
SUNGLASSES MAN
He’s still here.
ALI (O.C.)
Stay with him. Find out where he goes.
Sunglasses man puts away the phone and picks up a DVD of an American movie with a scantily clad woman on it, one eye on Uthman.
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